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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26878057">Better Left</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldHeiress/pseuds/EmeraldHeiress'>EmeraldHeiress</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Shards of Kyber [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Don't copy to another site, Gen, Implied Past Rape/Non-Con, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Past Child Abuse, Questions, Teenagers, past self harm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:20:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>591</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26878057</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldHeiress/pseuds/EmeraldHeiress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Some questions are better left unasked.</p><p>Follows <em>A Blessing, A Curse</em>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Shards of Kyber [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>307</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Better Left</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had only been a game. A night for padawans to blow off some steam and have some fun. A chance to sneak away and pretend they weren’t getting drunk with their master's implicit permission.  </p><p>But teenagers of any species and all types, Jedi or not, are going to be teenagers. </p><p>And any game of Truth or Dare is going to devolve.</p><p>Dares that shouldn’t be given. Questions that shouldn’t be asked. Secrets long held pulled to the light.</p><p>To be honest Anakin was surprised it had taken them this long to ask. He'd been at the Temple nearly nine years now. He'd heard the rumors trickle slowly through the marbled halls as he settled in.</p><p>Some painted it as a daring adventure battling pirates on a distant planet. Others as a horrific accident earned in reckless abandon. Yet, eight years and no one had actually asked him about how he'd gotten the scar. </p><p>It stretched across his face, curling from his left ear, over his cheek and down to his chin, faded almost silver with age but still stark and clear across his face. </p><p>He was lucky, the healers had said, when they did his intake examination; taking baseline readings and spitting out directions for Obi-Wan — orders on how to care for him. He was lucky that whatever had caused it missed the muscle.  That the cut was only in flesh. He was lucky, they said, that it only affected his appearance instead of anything else.</p><p>He was <em>lucky</em>.</p><p>He had only stared at them.</p><p>Just like he only stared at Feris now as the words echoed around the room. As all conversation slowed to a stop. As all eyes focused on them.</p><p>The other teen shifted on his feet.  “I was just… we were just curious.” He said. “You don't have to answer.”</p><p>
  <em>How did you get your scar?</em>
</p><p>For a moment, Anakin was back on Tatooine, crying in his mother's arms. Staining her skirt red with his blood as his body <em>ached </em>and his cheek <em>throbbed</em>. And then he was back in the Temple.</p><p>Faintly, his mouth formed the words. </p><p>“I did it.”</p><p>There was a wave of emotion in the Force, too quick to identify. A cascade of feelings from those around him; his peers and friends. It was almost dizzying. </p><p>He blinked and refocused. "I was… maybe seven? I took an old scrap piece of metal and did it myself."</p><p>Feris had gone pale. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. Aayla stepped forward between them, a question bursting from her lips.</p><p>“<em>Force</em>, Anakin... <em>why?</em>”</p><p>Anakin smiled bitterly, the line of his scar crinkling with the motion. He had learned quickly not to mention his past at the Temple. He had seen how it made people shift uncomfortably and change the subject. Turn away. He had learned to keep those things to himself. </p><p>Anakin had never told anyone why. </p><p>Even Obi-Wan.</p><p>But they had asked. For once. </p><p>Voice hoarse and words slow, he told them. “I had learned that morning what a terrible thing it was for a slave to be <em>pretty</em>.”</p><p>There was silence as the implication hit. Then, a flurry of gasps.  Horror spread through the Force. Anakin stood, draining his cup. He wasn't interested in being there anymore. He wanted to go home. With his warm bed and his master.</p><p>As he moved to leave, someone called after him, desperately.  “Did it work?”</p><p>Anakin froze for a minute, eyes closed and lost in memory. In nightmare. </p><p>“<em>No</em>.”</p><p>And then he was gone.</p>
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